An Escape to Forget
by Kooro
Summary: Missing scene from Vital Signs: Peter has to escape from the Howser Clinic. It doesn't help that he has a heavily sedated Neal in tow who feels particularly talkative and proves most unhelpful, most of the time. Bromance and humor.
1. Chapter 1

**Like an escape to "remember" only I used "forget" because of the most probable effects of the sedative. **

**Anyway, I'm glad I was able to write another WC fanfic. It's been a little too long for me. And the episode I've chosen to write about? One of the best and funniest bromantic White Collar episodes yet: ****Vital Signs****!**

**Oh, here's something funny I've been wanting to say. Sometimes, when I talk about White collar really fast and excitedly, I'll accidentally say "Neter" instead of Neal or Peter. Then I break out laughing. Neter and Peal. **

**Anywho, please read and enjoy. As usual, when I try to make short fanfics, they turn into something long enough to be split into chapters to there will be more chapters are this one.**

An Escape to Forget

The security camera tape was tucked safely in his pocket.

The ex-con was draped over his shoulder.

And a single phrase resounded in his head over and over.

All in all, it was a hopeless situation.

Peter Burke repositioned the arm of the ex-convict on his shoulder and tightened his grip around the dark-haired man's waist.

Neal Caffrey stumbled at his side, trying his best to push through the sedative-induced fog to lighten his weight from Peter. His arm felt like it was being torn from its socket as Peter grasped his wrist tightly to ensure that the younger man would not fall to the floor. His feet fumbled under him and refused to walk properly. He swayed at the agent's side, his head lolling left and right languidly.

"Come on, Neal," Peter urged, stopped to shift Neal's weight once more. "I need you to help me here. I can't carry you all the way."

"But you're so strong," Neal slurred supportively. "I mean really strong. I'm barely helping. Way to go."

"This isn't a contest," Peter snapped with irritation. "I need you to help. Not cheer."

"_Peter, Peter! He's our man! If he can't do it, no one can!_" Neal cheered loudly in a broken song.

"Shh!" Peter commanded harshly. "I said _not_ cheer."

"I'm just trying to help," Neal shrugged with a hurt pout.

"Then shut up and keep moving."

Neal made a face but forced his feet to actually lift up from the ground in the action of walking. But his legs were shaking so badly and his feet constantly slipped out from under him. His whole body felt so tired. It would be easy to just stop and go to sleep.

Neal's legs collapsed under him and he fell to the ground, bringing Peter down with him. Neal landed in a heap, his cheek pressed against the cold marble of the hallway. Peter pushed Neal's arm off from his shoulders and moved to his hands and knees.

"Damn it, Neal!" he cursed aloud, his eyes shooting furtive glances up and down to hall. If someone were to find them now… there would be no escape.

Neal groaned audibly, his brow furrowed with pain. Peter's temper softened a he gently eased Neal onto his back.

"Hey, no giving up now," he ordered calmly. "We have to get out of here before they find us."

Neal's eyes remained closed; showing no sign of having heard Peter. Concern growing stronger than anger, Peter moved closer protectively and touched his hand to Neal's shoulder.

Again he looked up and down the hallway, straining to hear any sound of approaching danger. When the doctor's found that Neal was missing from Powell's office, they were sure to start searching for him. And with the missing security tape that contained the proof of Neal's break-in, security was sure to be scourging every corner of the building.

Peter looked down at Neal. They had to get out. They had to get out, find someplace safe, and he had to treat Neal. There is only so much sedative a man could take. And it looked like Neal had been injected with the maximum amount.

"Neal," Peter called, shaking the younger man's shoulder. "Come on, we have to keep moving."

But where would they go? Security cameras were all over the place, capturing every movement. No place was safe.

"Peter."

Peter was torn from his thoughts at the sound of the piteous voice. He looked down to see the glossy blue gaze of Neal looking back at him. The very action seemed to put strain on the poor man.

"Yeah?" Peter asked as he leaned down closer to Neal.

"Are you trying to find a way out?"

Peter gave a start at the direct and rather self-explanatory question; his wide eyes staring back at Neal. "Yes," he answered simply.

"Why didn't you say so in the first place," Neal groaned as he pushed himself into a sitting position. As soon as he made it up, he threatened to fall again and Peter placed himself beside the ex-con to offer support.

"Do you know a safe way out?" Peter asked sternly.

A crooked smile brightened Neal's face. "Of course. Always gotta know an escape plan. Got the plan right here," he said as he tapped his temple.

"What is it?" Peter asked; renewed hope trickling into his voice.

"What's the magic word?" Neal asked with a stupid grin.

"Spit it out!"

"All right. Jeez. Don't have to be so rude," Neal pouted indignantly. Suddenly, his eyes focused and he looked straight at Peter; his ridiculous smile wiped from his lips.

"There are cameras watching every room; every hall," he explained seriously.

"I figured as much," Peter sighed.

"But there's one place that goes unwatched," Neal continued dramatically.

Peter looked at him expectantly as the devious grin returned to the ex-con's lips.

"The stairs."

**_._._._._._._**

**Writing about a sedated and drunk-like Neal is so much fun. ^_^**

**Pretty good so far. Yes, no, maybe so? I do very much love reviews. **

**Until next time then (sooner if you review),  
Hobey-Ho!  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**What a hit! Thanks for all reviews guys. And the alerts. And the favs. **

**Neter and Peal. Who'd a thought such a mistake would be so popular. Now you too can go around confusing your friends and family with the new names. **

**And another bit of random fandom here. I actually have a Fedora hat. I wear it every Tuesday for the new episode. Others may laugh but I call it being a true fan. **

**Unfortunately I received too many reviews to properly thank each reviewer. Sorry, but all I can offer is one big THANK YOU!!! to all and everyone those who read and those who reviewed my fanfic. All compliments are greatly appreciated and they make me sooooo happy. I log on more than once a day just to read them. **

**Well, enough ranting. Keep on reading.**

An Escape to Forget

_Chapter 2_

Peter stood and pulled Neal up from the ground. Groaning from the pain of his sore arm and swimming head, Neal slumped against Peter but remained standing. Peter quickly slipped Neal's arm over his shoulders and moved forward, dragging the younger man with him.

It took longer than he would have liked – since Neal still wasn't coherent enough to walk without constant support – but the two escapees managed to make it to the stairwell. Peter threw the door open and entered the unadorned room where a great staircase spiraled up from the ground level.

Peter swallowed uneasily at the sight of all the steps he would have to go down; at all the steps he would have to get Neal down.

Neal raised his head and whistled impressively. He turned his drooping gaze to Peter. "Ready partner?"

Peter grunted in response. Some partner. Peter was going to be the one doing all the work: walking and keeping Neal from tumbling down the stairs. But there was a thought. It would be easier just to push the unresponsive body of the ex-con down the stairs. Maybe Neal would learn a thing or two about sticking his nose in dangerous situations on the way down.

But it was just a thought. A fleeting one at that as Peter started down the stairs.

The process was painstakingly slow.

Neal was a heavy burden against him and the ex-con seemed to fade in and out of consciousness judging by his periodic spells of adverse movements. At times, Neal went completely limp and Peter had to work even harder to keep himself and Neal from slipping and tumbling down the steps.

But unconsciousness seemed to favor Neal more than consciousness. When awake, Neal gasped painfully from the exertion placed upon his unsteady body. His head hung low, his chin bumping against his chest. His arm swung uselessly at his side as his body jerked around with Peter's staggering movements.

When they had reached another level, Neal suddenly extended his free hand and shakily took hold of Peter's shirt.

"Stop, please," he gasped tiredly. "I need to rest. My head's gonna explode."

Peter looked from Neal to the amount of stairs they still had to descend. "All right," he finally agreed. "Just for a little while."

Peter carefully lowered Neal to the floor and then plopped down next to him. The two men both sat with their backs against the wall gasping from the mere labor of walking. Peter wiped away the sweat that had accumulated on his brow and pulled at his collar to allow cool air to trickle down his shirt. He leaned his head back against the wall, exposing his glistening neck and closed his eyes to rest.

"Hey, Peter?" Neal's voice sounded faintly.

Peter opened his eyes blearily but didn't move.

"Are you going to leave me?"

Peter gave a violent start and bolted upright, his hard and confused eyes boring into Neal. But the ex-con was staring blankly at the ceiling; his blue eyes watery and sad.

"What kind of question is that?" Peter asked guardedly.

"If they find us, are you going to run?" Neal asked.

"If they find us, we're both going to jail," Peter admitted tersely.

"But you could still get away," Neal countered. "Would you?"

"Neal," Peter began gently. "I –"

The sound of a door openly abruptly disturbed the silence as footsteps echoed from above; the harsh sound banging against the walls of the stairwell.

Neal closed his eyes and winced at the sound. Peter's heart caught in his throat.

Wordlessly, he grabbed Neal's arm and jumped to his feet, pulling the younger man up with him. Neal opened his mouth to cry out in pain but Peter slapped a hand over his mouth to stifle the sound.

Without hesitation, Peter half-dragged, half-carried Neal through the door that opened onto the floor and staggered down the hall and around the corner. His sharp eyes instantly locked onto the camera and he carefully maneuvered out of its sight to stop directly beneath it.

He pushed Neal against the wall and, together, they slid down to the floor. Peter kept his body protectively in front of Neal; blocking the younger man from the sight of the hallway. He placed one hand on the wall beside Neal's shoulder and the other waited hovering in front of Neal's mouth, ready to silence the ex-con if he became inclined to break out into song. He looked over his shoulder to face the hallway; his ears straining to pick up the sound of the approaching footsteps.

"Keep walking," he muttered aloud. "Don't stop. Just keep moving. Don't come here."

His silent prays went unanswered as the door suddenly creaked open and the footsteps sounded in the hallway. Peter swallowed his curses as he tensed in preparation for a fight. If they were spotted, Peter would fight. It was only one person. He could easily take them out before an alarm could be raised. Then he and Neal could continue their escape.

The footsteps came closer and Peter clenched his fists.

The moment of truth was rapidly edging closer. It was going to be fight or flight. And to fight would ensure that Neal would get out safely.

**_._._._._._._**

**Ooh, cliffies. It's a love-hate relationship with those things. **

**If you've read my other fanfics, you'd know I'm a sucker for bromantic moments. Just couldn't resist to put one in. **

**Oh, and I get so excited that I always forget to add this. Disclaimer: White Collar and its characters don't belong to me. But I can fantasize that they do. **

**Until next time,  
Hobey-ho  
(for those that recognize the saying, I've made a habit of putting the Pendragon saying at the end of every chapter of every fanfic. It's like a signature now.)**


	3. Chapter 3

**This fanfic has received the most reviews than any other of my stories by far. And with all those reviews, I can't properly thank each and every one of you. But I can give you all one big THANK YOU!!! Thanks so much for all the compliments and encouragement and for all the hits. **

**Congrats to all you Fedora-wearers out there. We'll bring the fad back. Then we really can get jackets. WC jackets with fedoras. That's a movement I want to be a part of.**

**Well, after that cliffy, I'm sure you want to get back to the story. Go on. **

An Escape to Forget

_Chapter 3:_

The footsteps came closer; the sharp clicking of heels. A woman would be easy to confine. But Peter never did like fighting a woman.

Closer; closer.

Peter held his breath; his own pounding heart resounding painfully in his ears and nearly drowning out the sound of the advancing adversary.

A female came into view and Peter froze.

The woman walked straight past the hallway Peter and Neal hid in; not once looking in their direction. Peter stayed absolutely still until he heard the woman open a door and disappear into one of the rooms. When no other sound presented itself, Peter released the breath he had been holding in a heavy sigh of pure relief.

He relaxed visibly as he turned back to Neal in time to see the ex-con slip to the side. The dark-haired man's head hit Peter's chest as Neal slumped against him tiredly. And – out of exceeding joy and relief for not being spotted – Peter placed his hand on Neal's head comfortingly.

"We're ok," he said aloud, a thankful smile flickering on his lips. He patted Neal's head and then slid his hand down onto Neal's shoulder to ease the man into a sitting position.

Neal groaned irritably at being disturbed from his rest.

"Come on, Neal," Peter insisted. "It's clear. We can keep going."

He stood and started to pull Neal up.

Suddenly, Neal tore his arm out of Peter's grip. Peter looked down at him quizzically.

"I can't," Neal whimpered. "No more."

Gasping loudly, Neal leaned heavily against the wall; his eyes closed tightly. With growing concern, Peter knelt beside him.

"We can't stop now, Neal. We've already wasted too much time. We have to keep going," Peter explained in an urgent whisper. He tentatively replaced his hand around Neal's arm.

Neal violently jerked his arm free of Peter's hand and then went limp. "Just go," he ordered weakly. "Leave me here and get out while you still can."

"Neal, we're almost out. Hang in a little longer," Peter encouraged insistently.

"I can't," Neal repeated in a rustic voice, his demeanor dissipating into defeat. "I can barely see, let alone walk."

Neal turned his head to face the agent and Peter swallowed at the sight of those vacant eyes. What kind of sedative had they given him?

Peter inhaled bravely and straightened stubbornly. "Now you listen to me Caffrey," he snapped in a forceful hiss, forcing Neal to focus on him. "I came all this way to get you. Hell, I had to flirt in front of my own wife! There's no way in hell I'm going to leave you here after everything I had to go through."

Before Neal could protest, Peter lunged forward and tossed Neal over his shoulder. Then he stood – wincing slightly from the weight – and reentered the stairwell.

Carefully, but with a faster pace, he started down the steps. Neal bounced on his shoulder, his legs held in place by the agent's strong arm and his hands swinging freely as his head bumped against the agent's back.

Peter passed another floor before Neal spoke.

"You aren't going to leave me are you?" he repeated, mostly likely because he had already forgotten that he had previously asked that question.

"I already told you that I wouldn't," Peter sniffed; watching only his feet as he took one step and then another.

"I don't know what I'd do if you left," Neal continued groggily as if he hadn't heard Peter. "After Kate left, I felt like my world just ended."

Peter paused in surprise. Neal didn't usually talk about Kate so freely. But then, Neal also didn't go around saying how much he trusted Peter. That sedative sure is a trip.

"But when you took me in, you showed me that I was still needed; that I could still help people," Neal continued dreamily. "And I don't know what I'd do if that all went away. I don't know what I'd do if you left."

Peter started forward again; his eyes downcast and intent but his mind registering every word Neal said.

"First Kate, and then you…" Neal said sadly as if he had already lost Peter. "I don't think I'd be able to go on."

Peter stopped abruptly. "Let's get one thing straight," he said strictly. "I will never leave you. You got that? Partners don't leave their partner. That's just how it works. You're going to be stuck with me for a long time to come so just shut up about all this 'leaving' crap."

Huffing with exasperation, Peter started moving again and stomped down the stairs. Neal made no response.

Then: "Hey, Peter. Check it out. I'm an airplane."

Neal extended his arms and made airplane noises like a child. His tilted his arms up and down and even flapped them; pretending that he was flying.

Peter just shook his head. A sad smile crept over his lips.

Perhaps it was just the sedative talking. Neal probably wouldn't remember what he said or what was said back in return. He'd probably forget all about declaring his trust in Peter and all about Peter's speech of not abandoning him.

But maybe that was for the best. Maybe.

"Ugh… Peter," Neal groaned, his airplane game over. Peter felt two shaking hands grip the back of his shirt. "I don't feel so good."

"Don't you get sick," Peter ordered firmly. "Not while I'm carrying you."

At last, Peter's feet touched down at ground level. They were almost out. Now just to get through the final level.

**_._._._._._._**

**Sorry Sherlock fans and hopeful guessers. It wasn't Mozzie. He does show up later though. And a fight wouldn't have worked out for the context that followed that scene. I hope you still like the outcome that did happen.**

**Making Neal act like an airplane was fun and I laughed out loud when writing it. Singing can't have all the fun.**

**One more chapter to go. A longer missing scene than usual but still good according to everyone's input. Keep up the good work guys. I might just post the chapter early. **

**Stay tuned for the final installment,  
Hobey-Ho**


	4. Chapter 4

**Alas, this is the final chapter of the story. **

An Escape to Forget

_Chapter 4:_

Peter cautiously opened the door and stepped through.

Due to the fervent search for Neal, the main floor was mainly deserted. Only one security office had remained to keep a sharp eye on the monitors for the escapee.

Peter made sure that he and Neal were hidden from view behind a pillar. But the front door was on the other side of the security desk. They couldn't get by without being seen.

Peter carefully lowered Neal tentatively to the ground. Neal looked up at him in puzzlement. He opened his mouth to ask what was wrong but Peter covered Neal's mouth with his hand. He then placed his finger over his own lips to indicate that Neal needed to be quiet.

Neal nodded and Peter pulled his hand away. Peter crouched down beside Neal, watching the officer and trying to think of a way out.

Suddenly, an idea hit and he looked expectantly at Neal.

When he had first gone looking for the Neal, he had been able to find the ex-con by following Neal's singing. Now, he would perform the same tactic.

"I need you to do something very important for me," Peter said in a whisper meant only for Neal's ears.

Neal's eyes widened hopefully; happy and ready to help.

"Sing."

Neal's brow furrowed in confusion.

"You stay right here and sing," Peter ordered quietly, pointing at the very spot that Neal sat. "Understand?"

Neal bobbed his head in agreement. Peter examined him for a moment and lightly patted Neal's head. Then he stood and hurried out of sight. Neal watched him go sadly and then pain etched upon his face, marring his fair features.

Peter had left him.

He was sad enough to sing.

The melody sounded low and forlorn in his throat but then grew loud and confident, switching from somber to light-hearted and full of love as he forgot of Peter and focused only on the song.

Startled by the sound, the guard left his station and followed the voice to the pillar. He moved around it and his gaze locked onto Neal.

Neal noticed that he was no longer alone and his song died in his throat.

"Uh-oh," he said.

The guard lifted his hand to the radio pinned to his shirt when something hard collided with the back of his head. With a gasp, the guard fell in a heap at Neal's feet. Standing above him, was Peter; a small, decorative table hanging from his fingers.

"Peter!" Neal exclaimed jubilantly.

Peter offered the man a brief smile before dragging the unconscious guard back to his post. Peter quickly hand-cuffed the man to his desk and then hurried back to Neal.

"All right. Let's go," Peter urged as he lifted Neal to his feet and offered the ex-con his support.

The two hurriedly departed through the front door and Peter guided Neal towards his car.

"There you are," a scolding voice sounded suddenly from behind.

Peter froze and turned slowly. He let out a sigh of relief as Mozzie trotted up to him. He felt that he should have been more suspicious than he was about the custodial uniform that the bald man donned, but decided it was an insignificant matter at the immediate moment.

"Oh," Mozz said skeptically. "It's you." Then his eyes traveled to Neal. "What happened to him?"

"A whole lot of sedative," Peter answered.

"I see," Mozz said, examining his friend closely. "Nothing fatal but he will have quite the headache when he comes to."

With his examination complete, Mozz turned on his heel and started in the opposite direction.

"Hey," Peter called after him. "Where are you going?"

"To do illegal stuff involving illegally attained documents," Mozz answered snidely. "The usual. Nothing a 'suit' like you should worry about."

Before Peter could say more, Mozz hurried off towards the car he and Neal had come in. The bags of rescued documents waited in the back.

Peter watched him go with a disapproving shake of his head. He thought it strange that one of Neal's only friends would desert the ex-con so quickly. Shocking still was that the co-con had left Neal with a "suit" like Peter.

But then maybe Mozz had finally submitted his trust to Peter just like Neal had. Perhaps Neal's trust in the agent had tempted Mozz to do the same. Or it could have been Mozz's trust in Elizabeth that had caused him to extend that trust to Peter.

Or maybe the asset had deposited Neal in Peter's care because he didn't want the suit getting hold of the documents he had illegally attained. And an unconscious Neal would be quite the liability if Mozz wanted a quick getaway.

Peter liked his first suggestion but believed that the latter was more accurate. Either way, Neal was currently his responsibility; especially since Neal was technically an FBI consultant. It was Peter's job to take care of him.

With Mozz out of sight and the sound of a car roaring to life and then rumbling away, Peter continued on to his car, opened it, and eased the unconscious Neal inside. He trotted around to the driver's side, slipped inside and started the car. He quickly pulled away from the cursed Howser Clinic and started towards home. There, he could properly care for Neal.

"Hey, Neal," he said softly, moving one hand to grip the ex-con's shoulder. "You stay with me all right. I'm taking you home. We'll fix you up."

"Don't worry," came Neal's murmured reply; slurred with sleep. "I won't leave you."

His breathing deepened and Peter knew he had fallen asleep.

They had made it. They had managed to escape without being seen.

And, Peter left that hospital with a new insight into Neal's way of thinking, and his own.

One: Neal trusted Peter.

Two: Peter trusted Neal.

Three: they were going to be partners for a long time.

And lastly: Neal was going to forget everything that had happened while he had been sedated.

**_._._._._._._**

**Thank you all for all your reviews and for reading. I'm glad you enjoyed it and I thoroughly appreciate your kind words, random fandoms, and opinions. **

**Use "Neter" and "Peal" references well and be sure to join the WC fan club complete with Fedora and jacket.**

**Until next time,  
Hobey-Ho**


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